Trust
by DragonessFei
Summary: Amy must confront her feelings of trust with Shadow, who is wanted for the murder of three GUN officers. He says that he did not commit the crimes, but can she believe him...even after people around her start to die?


Yes, I'm back. It's a miracle, isn't it? I'm not that much into the Sonic universe anymore, but I still consider myself a fan. So…Prepare yourselves.

Ramblings pertaining to the story: This is basically a re-write of my old story Trust. It was sort of popular, but I don't know why. If you're new to this morbid fantasy, then welcome. This version is a bit serious and some parts have been edited or cut out altogether. The first chapter will START OUT SLOWLY because I'm setting the mood.

**Trust: Chapter 1**

Flames the color of a phoenix's feathers popped loudly in its stone hearth, greedily devouring the wood that gave it its brilliant life. Amy Rose stood close to the fireplace's contained inferno, enjoying the comforting feeling the fire gave to most of her body. It angered her somewhat that the heat in her small cottage had given out and made her resort to such menial ways of trying to stay warm.

Her eyes looked out her lace-curtained front windows, watching the snow fall lazily from the night sky like tiny frozen tears of some great beast. The snow had already fallen to where it came up to her knees when she walked outside and the pink hedgehog's fear of a snow-in was becoming a reality with every falling flake. Her jade eyes soon left the frozen outside world and returned to the roaring flames in her own home. She sat down in a wicker chair situated next to the fireplace and took off her gloves, wriggling her fingers close to the fire in an attempt to warm them even more. However, she soon realized that her fingers were still cold—in fact, her whole body was beginning to lose its immense warmth even though the fire in the hearth was reaching its height. It did not perplex her why this was happening, however, since she knew that even the most towering of infernos could not quell the chill in her mind when _he_ came into thought.

"Shadow." She whispered quickly as if the mere mention of his name would bring divine retribution from the heavens above. He had been haunting her thought patterns as of lately, mostly because of the fact that he had been covered in the Mobian media since the incident on A.R.K. However, the coverage of the hedgehog had reached its climax when people started dying.

Three G.U.N. officers murdered in cold blood, their bodies mutilated beyond recognition. Black and crimson fur found at the scene. The news had rocked the media's world and their accusing fingers all pointed to Shadow, the main person who they thought was capable of such atrocities. The blame could have fallen on Sonic also, but no one in their right mind would accuse the blue idol of such crimes. Besides, all the clues pointed to Sonic's former adversary and Shadow had probable cause for murdering members of the group who took so much from him in the past. The authorities had no clues on the whereabouts of the renegade hedgehog and they were desperate for information that would lead to his immediate capture. Shadow's 'allies' were questioned on their connection to him, but they could find no real leads on the location of the criminal. Amy herself was questioned about Shadow, but she could only provide as much information as the rest of her friends. Thus, the case was still unsolved.

Amy shivered slightly as she remembered the cool calculating look of his crimson eyes. She was never too fond of the dark hedgehog in the beginning, but through the time she spent with him, she learned more about his true character and saw the soul behind his chilling shell. That by no means constituted that she believed that he was incapable of murder, but she knew that there must have been a damn good reason for the killings if he did commit them. What she did not understand was how the media could portray the hedgehog as a cold, calculating killer devoid of any emotion whatsoever when he saved the world from complete and utter obliteration. She tried to fathom the reason for this and all she drew was a blank.

"Maybe if they knew the real him they wouldn't be so rude." She thought as a large chill shook her frail body. "If they only knew the bleeding soul behind the hard façade, then they would probably understand."

Her sympathetic ramblings were sharply interrupted by a loud rapping at the front door. She looked up at the clock situated on the mantle above the fireplace and realized that it was almost midnight.

"Who could be outside at this hour?" she wondered as she left her spot at the fireplace and crept slowly to the front door. She paused at the thought of readying her Piko Piko hammer but decided against it. She could handle this herself.

"Who is it?" she called out strongly as she neared the door, now slowing her pace to a slow, steady shuffle. He senses became more alert when she realized that the perpetrator at the door did not immediately answer her call.

"I said, who is it!" Her voice rose about an octave higher as she finally made it up to the wooden door. Once again, there was no answer from the other side. The thought of readying her hammer flashed again through her mind once more but she ignored it once again as she placed her right hand upon the doorknob. An immense dread surfaced in the pit of her stomach as she thought of the nature of the person that was behind the door. It alarmed her that her visitor did not announce their name when she asked for it. She could be opening her door to a killer. However, she pushed those thoughts to the back of her mind and slowly turned the knob, her hands slightly numb with dread and apprehension. She hesitated a little before opening the door itself, but soon gathered up what little courage she had left in her body. She flung the door open in a sheer panic and she looked outside, only to see a dim illumination of a figure in the moonlight. Amy immediately wished for better lighting outsider he home since the figure was shrouded in darkness—all she could see was a few vague facial features. Crimson eyes pierced Amy's psyche, reflecting years of wisdom and life experiences. Tan lips curled up slightly into a beseeching smirk, tainting her innocence and shaking her to her very core. Even though she couldn't see her visitor clearly, she knew that only one person could make her feel this way—so _open_ and so _vulnerable_.

"…S-Shadow?"


End file.
